Gantz: Parallel Stage
by NeptunesBlue
Summary: par AL' lel:  adj  lying in the same plane but never meeting no matter how far extended; consisting or having component parts connected; progressing so that the interval between parts remain the same. The rest of the world did not go unaffected... HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**Gantz****: ****Parallel Stage**

**Summary:** par AL' lel: (adj) lying in the same plane but never meeting no matter how far extended; consisting or having component parts connected; progressing so that the interval between parts remain the same

…Something I thought about starting after watching the anime; finally started after finishing the most recent chapter of the manga.

**A/N:** I guess I should say that this will eventually contain spoilers if you haven't read the manga…which I suggest you do because it is WAY more fulfilling than the anime. But the show was good of its own accord, don't get me wrong. Anyway, since I don't feel I could elaborate any further on any of the existing Gantz teams (seriously, go read the manga and you'll understand) I've decided to make my own. And before you groan about hating OCs, please understand that this is a parallel story. Meaning that the Tokyo team, the Osaka team, and any other teams mentioned/shown still exist. This is just my version of what the world's other teams were up to while Kei, Kato, and Reika were doing their thing in Japan. And because I live in the US and know the US' fate in the manga, this team will be from the US. New York City, specifically.

So to summarize, this is my take of the 5 Boroughs of New York City (Manhattan, The Bronx, Brooklyn, Staten Island, and Queens) Gantz team…before the eventual fate of the US in the manga…that I may or may not elaborate upon since they did it with Kei and Tae-chan and everybody else in the manga.

…But chances are, I'll be writing mostly about the Manhattan and Queens Teams simply because they will have the most interesting characters. Maybe Staten Island too, because – let's face it, "Guido Sensation" can apply to more than just TV…sorry, that was off-color, wasn't it? Actually, the comic relief is going to come from a pair of girls from the Staten Island Team. I did all this on purpose so that I wouldn't have to keep writing 5 versions of the same missions, because that would get annoyingly repetitive to keep writing, and annoyingly repetitive for you to keep reading =]

ENOUGH RAMBLING! ENJOY ALREADY!

Sorry…just one more thing. There is a rape/assault scene in the first chapter…right down there in that first section, actually. Just a warning. It's not really graphic, but I figure I'd let you know anyway.

* * *

_The Manhattan Team_

She stumbled and rolled her ankle, colliding into the glass revolving door. Her blue eyes looked down at her feet in distaste and kicked off the too-high heels. She was already 5' 10", so what was the point?

"Rough night, Ava?" the hotel's late-shift security guard questioned, as he watched her breeze through the doors.

She turned her rouged lips upwards into a half-assed smile, but said nothing more as she traipsed barefoot through the lobby. Her shoes in her hands, she stumbled again. She paused, straightened her shoulders, and pretended that the few remaining feet to the elevator was a runway. She would merely repeat what she had done earlier tonight and no one would be the wiser. If she could just make it into the elevators, then she wouldn't have to waste time pretending not to be drunk off her ass…again.

"Need some help?" the security guard's grubby fingers wrapped themselves around a forearm and then the small of her back before she could even say anything. "I'll get you upstairs, don't worry."

Ava looked down at the top of the man's balding head. He was sweating, which would ruin the silk of her dress. But she released an unladylike hiccup-burp and decided to just forget about it. She had more than enough money and connections to get a new one, after all. So, she allowed the pudgy, sweaty man to escort her to the elevators like a little old lady. And why not? She knew the man was obsessed with her – half of Manhattan was – so she was probably going to get oodles of good karma for allowing this man to put his hand on her back like that.

"What floor are you again?" he looked up at her as they waited for the elevator to descend.

"Seex." Her accent was even more incoherent when her tongue was heavy with alcohol. But the man obviously knew what floor she was on, the stalker. He probably knew her suite number, too.

The door "ping!"-ed open and the fat man ushered her inside.

"Easy now…" he cooed, staring at the flesh her skirt revealed. "We wouldn't want you to take a tumble and risk slicing up those pretty legs of yours."

Ava narrowed her piercing eyes as he punched the button for the 6th floor. She got an uneasy feeling in her slender stomach when she looked at the greasy man. And coming from one of the most sought-after models in Manhattan, that was saying something. Ava dealt with creepy photographers, enamored passersby, and eager public servants on a daily basis. She handled it like a champ. But there was something unsettling about this man tonight. Something that was setting off the alarm bells of her woman's intuition.

"I hope you don't mind me saying this, Ava, but you're a very beautiful girl." He said suddenly, turning to her. "Just how old are you?"

She hesitated, staring uneasily into this man's beady, brown eyes. "Tventy-two."

He nodded and smiled, dabbing his sleeve on his forehead. "Your accent is very charming, has anyone ever told you that?"

She fished the key-card for her suite from her purse and turned to the elevator doors. They should open any second now. "_Da_."

"I should help you get to your apartment." He insisted, taking her arm again.

Ava tried to wrench it away. "No, tank you." She smiled as demurely as possible, which was difficult considering all the vodka clouding her mind. "I am fine now."

The guard scowled. "Nonsense." He licked his lips and placed his other hand on the small of her back again, giving her a little shove to get her moving. "A second ago, you were falling over yourself. It's my job to ensure the safety of the hotel's guests, you know."

"I leeve here. I am not a guest."

"Whatever." He growled impatiently. "What's your suite number?" She didn't reply, so he snatched the key-card from her manicured fingers and read the digits printed on it.

Ava halted and stood like a stubborn horse. "Geeve me beck my card."

"It's right here." He assured, tugging on her arm again. "I'll swipe it for you." He did so and kicked open the door, standing beside it innocently. "See?" he offered the card to her.

Ava creased her brows and quickly snatched back her card. Was it just the vodka making her paranoid? Was this fat, sweaty, bald man just as innocent as he looked?

"Tank you." She said, warily stepping inside her darkened suite. "I have no cash on me now, but I'll geeve you a teep tomorrow."

"I don't want your money." He snarled, stepping into her foyer and quietly closing the door behind him. There was a sinister sound in his tone and a primal look in his eye.

Ava screamed but he jumped on her and clasped his hands over her nose and mouth. Both fell to the ground, Ava beneath his pudgy and sweaty body.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" he commanded, voice feral. "I'll kill you if you don't shut up!"

Ava silenced her screaming, if only due to her lungs protesting. She kicked her legs to try and jerk him off her, but it was like trying to remove an unsolicited dog from your ankle. She propped herself up on her elbows and latched onto his ears in an attempt to cause him enough pain to submit. But that was when he lifted a fist and brought it down upon her jaw. His knuckles smashed against her cheekbone and sent her head to the right in an excruciating jerk. She was momentarily stunned, stars erupting in her field of vision and blinding her.

"I won't damage that pretty face again if you just stay quiet." He growled, hiking the skirt of her elegant silk dress up to her bellybutton.

Ava hissed and tried to curl into herself in a pathetic attempt to save herself. It was when she felt his hands prying her thighs apart, that she wished she'd worn some underwear. Visible-panty-lines be damned. She listened with an unwanted attentiveness to the jingle of the metal of his belt and trousers. Her stomach turned and her eyes stung with hot tears.

"Hmm, so the carpet _does_ match the curtain…"

"Please." She begged. "Don't do thees. Just walk away and I promise not to tell."

"I told you to shut up." He lifted a hairy fist into the air again, making Ava flinch. "Take the dress off your shoulders. I wanna see the tits that are so high in demand right now."

"No." she clutched at the smooth fabric like a security blanket.

This time he backhanded her and her head whipped to the other side, smacking against the cold floor. In her daze, he tore the dress from her shoulders, bunching the light blue silk at her ribcage.

"Oh, that's much better." He breathed, reached his hands up to touch them.

Ava shoved against the floor to try and buck him off, but he was too heavy.

"Stop struggling." He commanded. "I know you're enjoying this, too."

"Liar!" she snapped, spitting into his face.

The security guard curled his upper lip in anger and swiped the saliva away. "That wasn't very ladylike." He removed his hands from her chest to snake his fingers around her neck. "Apologize to me, you dirty Nazi."

She glared back defiantly. "I am _Russian_!"

He squeezed. "Whatever…"

Ava's blue eyes widened in shock and she gasped for air as her face turned as scarlet as her hair.

"All you have to do is apologize." He kept one hand around her elegant neck as the other shoved her legs apart.

A yelp of pain disintegrated in the back of her throat as she felt him plunge into her. Hot tears streamed down the sides of her face and dampened her scarlet locks.

"I said _shut the fuck up!_" he barked, practically curling the fingers on her neck into a fist.

Ava gasped before she felt her muscles relax and her head loll to the side. She was able to make out the guard's horrified cry of, "Jesus Christ!" before her sight dissolved.

Funny, she always imagined the path to Hell would be dark and cold…

* * *

"Is this another one?"

"Yeah, it looks like it."

"Oh, yay! It's another girl!"

"Where are they coming from?"

"Beats the shit outta me, lady."

"Potty-mouth!"

"Oh, shut your trap, kid…oh, holy shit, she's naked!"

Ava squinted against the white light that shined into her face. Gingerly, she covered her face and attempted to sit up. "_Syn suka_…"[1] she breathed, falling back down.

"Uh…lady?"

She turned her head in the direction of the voice. "Hm?" Her blue eyes scanned the other faces that were looking back at her. There was a scowling old lady in pajamas shielding a little girl with a backpack, and three guys gaping at her. One was in a suit, another wore a hoodie and jeans, and the final…was in a Speedo.

"I don't think you realize…" the younger of the three men – the one in the Speedo – said. "But…you're naked…"

Ava sat upright and looked down at herself. They were absolutely correct. Her light blue silk dress was bunched up at her thighs now, shielding nothing beyond her hipbones. Quickly, she straightened the skirt out and slipped the sleeves back over her shoulders. But the damage was done. She wasn't talking about the impromptu peep show, either. That she could handle, having stripped down for photographers in the past. No, what she meant was the dress. It was spotted with dark stains of sweat and wrinkled to all hell. The one of a kind masterpiece designed for her – and _only_ her – was ruined. Absolutely ruined.

"Holy shit, I know you!"

She turned to the young looking blonde in the Speedo and tilted her head curiously.

"Get outta here, man." The man closer to Ava's age snapped. He wore a very nice suit, but his tie was hanging loose around his shoulders. "There's no way in hell a punk like you knows a chick like that."

The younger boy scowled. "Screw you, I do too!" he turned to Ava. "What's your name? I swear I've seen you before."

Ava stood and leaned against one of the walls, peering beyond the accosting boy's head and out the window. The skyline winked back at her. "Where are we?" She took in her ambient surroundings – which was just the large black ball in the middle of the room.

"No one knows." The man in the suit shrugged. "We're locked in."

Ava's heart skipped a beat. "What you mean, locked een?"

"As in trapped." He stated simply, sticking his hands in his pockets. "We can't get past that hallway, and the windows are stuck."

"What's going on?"

Another shrug. "We're just as confused as you are, big red."

She glared. "Don't call me that."

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Sorry." He gave a suave smile. "What would you prefer me to call you?"

"My name." she snapped. "Ava."

"That's a very pretty name." he said. "I'm Jackson. Jackson Prewitt, but Jack is fine, too. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ava." He offered his hand for her to shake.

She took it warily. "I don't understand. Why are we here? The last thing I remember ees…"

"Dying?" It was the little girl who said it, making the rest of the room turn to her in shock.

"Well…yes." Ava replied. "Did you…die too?"

She nodded her raven pigtails. "I was hit by a car walking home from school."

"What is your name, sweetheart?" the elderly woman whose lap she was sitting in asked. "My name is Indira Dross…and I believe I passed away in my sleep."

"I'm Chloe Littlewood."

Four pairs of eyes fell upon the young blonde, who stared back with a blank expression.

"Introduce yourself, idiot." Jack said.

"Oh." He grinned sheepishly. "The name's Christian Marrone and I drowned."

The other five turned to the one in the corner expectantly.

"Levi Epstein." He supplied. "Hanged myself." Ava covered her mouth to suppress a gasp, and the man ignored the rest of their looks. "Look, trust me when I tell you that this whole introduction ceremony isn't going to help anyone."

"What?" Jack demanded. "Do you know something we don't?"

Levi nodded. "I know a lot of 'somethings' that you don't."

"Well spill it already, asshole!" Christian shouted.

"Fine, fine." Levi rapped his knuckles on the black ball. "This is Gantz."

"Gantz?"

"What the heck is that?"

Levi shrugged. "I don't know much, but what I do know I will tell you." He nodded his chin at the old woman and the kid in her lap. "You two don't stand a snowball's chance in Hell."

Indira gave him a confused look as Chloe scowled defiantly.

"My momma told me not to let anybody cuss at me."

Jackson ignored her in favor of leveling a glare on Levi. "Stand a chance at what?"

"Surviving." He said simply enough. "Look, even if I told you everything that's about to happen, you wouldn't believe me." He gave the black ball another good whack. "But, I will advise you to steer clear and cover your ears. Gantz is about to start singing _Yankee Doodle_, and then he's gonna blast open."

"Like a bomb!" Christian demanded.

_Yankee Doodle went to town, a-riding on a pony…_

The room jumped, startled, before they stared at Levi.

"Don't look at me." He said. "It's Gantz that's doing all this. Isn't that right, Gantz?"

"Shut up!" Christian commanded. "What the hell is going on? How do we get outta here!"

"Just watch." Levi answered, pointing to the ball.

"I'm scared!" Chloe cried from the back of the room. Ava ran over to the two other females and knelt down beside them. But all six pairs of eyes watched the shiny black ball with rapt attention, until three shelves seemed to appear out of thin air. "I'm scared!" Chloe repeated, clutching a piece of either woman's clothing. Ava would have scowled and slapped the girl's hand away under any other circumstances, but her dress was ruined already.

"This, ladies and gentlemen, is where you'll have to pay attention." Levi approached one of the shelves and retrieved a metal suitcase with the words "Red Sonja" carved into its face. He turned to Ava. "I'm pretty sure this is you." He dropped it on the ground and slid it over to her.

Ava pried it open cautiously as the other four hovered over to sneak a peek. "Ees thees a joke?" she demanded hotly, holding the black suit up. "What _ees_ thees thing?"

"It's your suit." Levi said. "And everyone gets one of their own."

"Eet's hideous!" Ava insisted.

Levi nodded. "That it is. But I promise only good things come from wearing it."

Ava dropped it like a hot potato. "I don't see how."

"It's like a super-suit." He was addressing the entire room this time. "It'll turn you into Superman, except you'll also have Batman's gadgets to fall back on." He grabbed a large gun from another shelf. "It's like the best of both worlds, really."

"No way that thing's real!" Christian exclaimed.

"It looks like something I'd buy my nephew from _Toys R Us_." Jackson scoffed.

"I assure you it is not." Levi said. "Now, I suggest you take at least one gun and bring your suit along if you aren't going to change into it right now. The transfer is about to begin and we've been assigned our target while you guys were busy dilly-dallying."

"_Target?_" Christian echoed. "You've gotta be kidding me. What is this, _Halo?_"

Levi merely smirked, feeling a breeze blow through the top of his disembodied cranium.

"Holy shit, what's happening to him!"

"He's dying!" Ava cried. "Someone help him!"

Levi could only laugh as he inwardly placed timers over their heads. Grandma and the brat wouldn't last 15 minutes. The Russian had potential if she didn't act like a stupid bimbo. And the other guys would more than likely finish the level after they accepted that this was not a dream.

[1] "Son of a bitch…"

* * *

_The Bronx Team_

"Do you think that's the last one?"

"I dunno, man."

"I think it might be."

"Hey, what's your name?"

The woman opened her eyes and sat up, clutching her aching head.

"Can you hear me, lady?" the man asked again. "Are you alright?"

She nodded; making her short curls bounce with the movement. "Where am I?"

"We don't know." The man shrugged his broad shoulders. "All we know is that we're still in the Bronx. I can see Yankee Stadium in the distance out that window."

"And that we're trapped." Another man added.

"Who are all you people?" the woman demanded, scanning all their faces. There was a black man wearing a bright orange vest and yellow hardhat across from her. To her side, ogling her as he leaned against the large window, was a tan kid wearing baggy clothes and a white bandana. The woman shuddered and settled her gaze on the man who had been talking – a butcher, judging by his bloodied white apron.

"My name is Henry Guillermo." He smiled. "And this is Heath Johnson." The construction worker. "Ray Parker." The kid with the bandana. "And over there is Trinidad Ortiz."

The woman turned and breathed a sigh of relief. There was another girl here, thank God. She looked fairly young still, even though she was huddled in a corner behind that weird black ball.

"Trini is fine." she snapped, and then stared back expectantly.

"I'm Rosa." The woman said. "Rosa Rodriguez. What is going on? Why are we all here?"

"What is the last thing you all remember?" Trini questioned, extracting herself from behind the black ball. She looked over to Rosa, her brown eyes piercing.

The older woman hesitated. "…Falling asleep." She fibbed, cheeks heating. Trini narrowed her eyes at her, but Heath spoke before the look could have any effect.

"The last thing I remember is falling off this building's scaffolding." He announced. "I'm a construction worker…I wasn't trying to kill myself or nothing."

"I got shot." Ray declared, a bit proudly. "We was ambushed in some alley by a rival gang."

Trini rolled her eyes and turned to Henry, who smiled sheepishly.

"Our meat delivery truck backed over me this morning…"

Trini nodded and headed back into the middle of the room to sit on the black ball. "Right. So, I was killed when the McDonalds I work at got robbed. But that was a while ago." She patted the shiny sphere beneath her. "This is the thing that kept us all alive."

"Wait." Ray said excitedly. "So, we _ain't_ dead?"

"It's complicated." Trini answered. "I'm not really sure how all this shit works for sure. But this thing is gonna start singing _Yankee Doodle_ in a minute before opening up. And then it's gonna give us these suits and guns, see, which we'll need to fight whatever alien it tells us to."

"Hold on." Heath held up a dark hand and scratched his head. "_Aliens?_"

"I know it sounds stupid." Trini said, stepping off Gantz to sit down by Rosa. "But it'll make sense in about a minute. Just –"

"_Yankee Doodle went to town, a-riding on a pony_…"

"What the fuck is going on?" Ray exclaimed, stepping closer to inspect Gantz.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you…" Trini advised half-heartedly.

"_Stuck a feather in his hat, and called it macaroni!_"

"You brought me here, didn't you?" Rosa demanded in a heated whisper. "You're the devil or something, right?"

"_Yankee Doodle, keep it up. Yankee Doodle Dandy…_"

"_Excuse me?_" Trini snapped, giving her two severely raised eyebrows.

"It's because I took those pills and tried to kill myself even though I have two kids, isn't it?" she continued. "Because I'm a bad mother, you brought me to this place…this Purgatory…" she covered her face in her hands. "_Dios mio…dios mio_…"

"_Mind the music and the step. And with the girls be handy!_"

Trini stared at the sobbing woman until Gantz finally shot open, knocking the gang member to the ground. She laughed at him as she walked by. "Told you so."

"Shut the fuck up, you bitch." He growled, standing back up and glaring at the ball. "I should fuck your shit up, bitchass."

Trini rolled her eyes again and tossed a suitcase at him. "Think fast, _Cobarde_."

"What'd you jus' call me, bitch?" he caught the metal case and stared at the etching in disbelief. "This fucker thinks I'm a coward!"

Trini ignored him in order to hand _Meat Man_ to the butcher and _Butterfingers_ to the construction worker.

"Are these codenames or something?" Henry questioned.

"This isn't a very funny joke…" Butterfingers, previously known as Heath the construction worker, scowled.

"Just shut up and put on the suits."

"This shit's wack." Ray declared, holding up the suit.

"It'll save your life." Trini told him, grabbing her guns and controller. "Trust me. They may look retarded, but I'm wearing one too."

A jingle chimed and letters appeared across Gantz's screen:

_**'/0UR L1\/35 |-|4\/3 3|\|D3D. \/\/|-| j00Z d0 \/\/17|-| j00R |\|3\/\/ L1\/35 15 3|\|71R3L'/ UP 70 /\/\3. 7|-|47'5 7|-|3 7|-|30R'/, 4|\|'/\/\/4'/5…**_

"The hell is _that?_"

Trini shrugged. "Beats me. Just gibberish."

"Well, it's gotta be important if it's up there!" Henry said, rushing over to stare at the screen.

"Look guy." Trini snapped. "I've been here longer than you have. I know the rules of this game better than you do. If you want to go back home safe and sound and _alive_, you better shut up and listen to what I tell you."

"What do you mean _alive?_" he demanded. "I thought you said we weren't dead."

"No." she countered, placing an X-gun in the holster on her thigh. "I said it was complicated…which it is."

The screen jingled again, drawing the room's attention.

"What is _that?_"

Trini stared at the picture before her and scanned the gibberish. "That is our next target." She declared, snapping her controller to her wrist and grabbing hold of her H-gun. "I suggest you _suit_ up or _shut_ up. We're about to be transferred."

* * *

_The Brooklyn Team_

"Gah! Here's another one!"

"Another one?"

"Holy shit, how many are there?"

"I think it's pretty safe to say that no one is capable of answering that question."

"Ah!" the new person shrieked. "Who the hell are you guys? What am I doing here?" The Asian kid's eyes flitted from face to face.

"Calm down." An older woman in a pantsuit snapped. "You're not in any danger." She eyed a disgruntled looking teen in the corner. "…At least, I don't think."

"Who are you people?" the guy demanded again. "And what am I doing here?"

"None of us –" the man in trousers and a button down was interrupted by a sharp jingle. The room turned to face the black ball in the center of the room just as _Yankee Doodle_ filled the air.

"What is that!" the Asian student demanded, covering his ears.

There was another jingle, followed by the formation of green letters on the black ball's screen.

"What does that say?" the woman questioned, squinting at it.

"Is that even English?"

"I think it's malfunctioning…" a blonde girl commented.

"No, wait!" the student shoved the two adults out of the way. "I can read this! It's leet speak!"

"_What_ speak?" the woman arched a brow.

"Leet!"

The blonde rolled her eyes. "It's just a fancy way of saying 'nerd' talk, Principal Stonewall. My brother can read it too."

"Well, what's it say?" the man next to Principal Stonewall demanded.

"'Your lives have ended'." He read, voice quivering. "'What you do with your new lives is entirely up to me. That's the theory, anyways'…"

"_Ended?_" Principal Stonewall gasped. "I _died?_" she turned a vehement glare to the hooded boy sitting in the corner. "You _killed_ me, you little prick!"

"Amy, calm down…" the man in the button down next to her cooed.

"No, _Greg_, I will _not_ calm down!" she slapped his hands away. "This mini-Rambo just killed us!" she eyed the young blonde and held her hand out. "Christine, get away from him. He might still have a gun for all we know."

Christine eyed the younger boy with disdain before heading over to her principal.

"Wait, you guys were killed in a school shooting?" the Asian guessed. "What school was it?"

"Brooklyn Tech."

"No way!"

Amy fixed him with a stony glare. "And just who are you?"

"My name's Charlie Kim." He offered. "And I don't know what happened to me. All I remember is getting completely shit-faced at this party last night and then passing out. When I woke up, I was in here."

"You probably died of alcohol poisoning." Christine said, to which Charlie shrugged.

There was another jingle from Gantz, making the four surrounding it jump in shock. When its shelves flung open, they all leapt back like cats sprayed with water.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"What's on its screen now, Charlie?"

Charlie adjusted his rectangular glasses and leaned over to read. "It's telling us to destroy this alien." He pointed at the gruesome picture provided. "It's called the Zorro Alien."

"We have to kill _Zorro?_" Amy gaped at the screen.

Charlie ignored her. "Special abilities include: cunning, witty, can change into giant fox…! Dislikes: violence against women, guns, and stupidity…?"

"Keep reading! Is that it?"

"No, it has a catch-phrase." He almost laughed. "'To avenge the helpless, to punish the cruel, and to aid the oppressed'."

"What the hell is going on?" Greg ran his fingers through his hair as Charlie and Amy discussed the alien. "We're supposed to kill that thing? What for? Who says?" he slumped against Gantz. "Isn't this a job for the CIA or FBI or…the Goddamn Black Ops or something!"

"I think we should all just take some deep breaths." Christine said, holding several metal suitcases in her hands.

"What do you have there?" Greg demanded, clearly suspicious.

"I think they're suits." She replied. "They have names on them too. They sound like codenames or nicknames or something. Check it out." She laid a few on the floor. "_Ralph_, _Freud_, _Smarty-Pants_, _Jezebel_, and _Crybaby_."

Greg arched a brow at each one. "Well…they aren't very clever, are they?"

"Who's who?" Charlie demanded.

"If I had to guess, I think Mr. Allen would be _Freud_."

Greg looked up. "Why me?"

"Because you taught AP Psych at Brooklyn Tech." she shrugged, sliding the suitcase over.

"Who's Ralph?" Amy questioned, eyeing the kid in the corner. "Hey, you. Is your name Ralph?"

"It's Peter." He snapped back, tugging his hood farther down his face.

Christine rolled her eyes. "Weirdo…" Then she turned to Principal Stonewall. "I think you're _Jezebel_."

"_Excuse me?_"

"Oh, c'mon, Amy." Greg gave her an incredulous look. "Your extramarital affairs are a hot topic at least once a month in my homeroom class…no use trying to play innocent now."

Amy rolled her eyes and angrily snatched the suitcase from Christine.

"Right." Christine said. "That just leaves _Smarty-Pants_, _Ralph_, and _Crybaby_." She looked over at Charlie. "I think you might be _Ralph_."

"How?"

"Well, you said the last thing you remember before coming here was getting drunk at some party. Maybe you choked on your own vomit or something."

"I thought you said it was alcohol poisoning?"

"Well, since being poisoned isn't an option, ralphing to death has gotta be you."

"Then who are you?" he snapped, grabbing his case. "_Smarty-pants?_"

"Actually, yes." She said. "That kid in the corner's been crying ever since he got here. He's _Crybaby_."

The room turned from the contents of their suitcases to stare at the kid in the hooded sweatshirt, his face buried in his bent knees.

"Forget about him." Christine said. "Principal Stonewall's right. Save for Charlie, he killed all of us. Let's just focus on the rest of us."

"Alright." Charlie said, holding up his suit. "What say you, oh fearless leader?"

"Put 'em on." She said. "They've gotta be important if they're here. Principal Stonewall and I will get changed on the other side of that door while you guys change in here." She grabbed her case and waited for her principal to leave first. "Maybe this is a step-by-step thing. Once we do something, something else will happen…until we figure out what's going on." Christine shrugged again. "That's _my_ theory, anyways…" She joined Amy out in the hall.

Charlie nodded and turned to Greg. "Do you think we should tell that kid to change?"

Greg shook his head. "He's not deaf. He heard everything." His voice was full of venom. "Let him make his own decision…the little shit seems good at making life decisions…"

* * *

_The Queens Team_

"There's the dog."

"He's such a cute puppy." She paused. "Did we ever figure out what kind he is?"

"A pain in the ass."

"You just say that because he's always trying to hump your leg."

"Oh, look. Gantz has brought us new teammates…looks like two old dudes."

The dirty-blonde girl of the pair pouted. "That black guy looks kinda our age."

"You need glasses." The brunette quipped from her perch atop Gantz. "But the one with the tattoos is kinda hot."

"Oh, gross Lola. He's like _thirty!_"

"I have a name to live up to, you know." She paused. "It's my turn to give the introduction, remember?"

"Ugh…fine. Just don't start monologue-ing like some weird anime character again. You ran outta time last time."

"Shut up. I hate you."

They both erupted into a simultaneous fit of laughter.

"Huh?" the young black man looked around bewilderedly. "Where am I?"

"Welcome gentleman!" Lola grinned.

"The fuck?" the tattooed man took in the sight of the young blonde and brunette before him, clad in what looked like demented Catwoman suits à la Michelle Pfeiffer. "Is this…am I dreaming?"

Lola chuckled. "I'm flattered, really. But, trust me, this is anything but a dream." She leapt off Gantz and stood in the middle of the room, knocking the dog from her leg a moment later. "Stupid bastard…" she grumbled, watching as her friend tugged him away. "My name is Lolita Crossley, but you can call me Lola. And that over there is my good friend Camilla Crown…Cam is fine, though. And you two have been transported into the world of Gantz."

"Gantz?" the tattooed man echoed. "The hell is a Gantz?" he held a hand to his temple and rubbed. "Ugh…that fucker musta hit me harder than I thought."

"Is this some kinda joke?" the other guy questioned, staring at Gantz. "What's that ball for? Is that a bomb?"

Lola rolled her obsidian orbs. "We only have a limited amount of time, gentleman. So I suggest you shut up and listen." She smirked at their scowls. "At anytime now, Gantz is gonna try and grab our attention by blasting _Yankee Doodle_ out of his speakers. And then he's gonna give you guys your suits and guns and then tell us which alien we have to kill this time."

The tattooed man stood up from his previously slouched over position and made his way over to the door. "It's locked." He grumbled, tugging harder before giving it a shove with his shoulder. "I'm seriously trapped in this room with these two whack-jobs…"

"We aren't whack-jobs." Camilla, the blonde of the pair, insisted. "Just wait a minute, you'll see."

"I ain't waitin' for shit." He informed her. "I've seen people like you on the news – cults or something." He shook his head. "You're hot and all, but even a guy like me has standards. I've done a lot of crazy things in the past to get some tail, but joining a cult is where I draw the line."

Camilla rolled her hazel eyes. "First of all, we're both jailbait as far as you and the FBI are concerned." She jerked her thumb to indicate Lola, who waved cheekily in return. "And secondly, this isn't a cult. Just be patient, will ya?"

"Fuck you both." He said. "I'm too smart to fall for shit like this. What's the deal here? You lure us into this room wearing those tight outfits and force-feed us the Kool-Aid or something?"

"Hey!" the other guy barked. "I take offense to that, man! Why's it gotta be Kool-Aid?"

He just rolled his eyes. "There was a cult in the 80s that made these people drink Kool-Aid poisoned with like anti-freeze or something. It killed everyone, is the point here."

"Actually." Camilla held up a finger. "It was laced with cyanide. And it took place in 1978." She paused. "The guy called it a 'revolutionary suicide'…or just a glorified mass suicide." She took in the tattooed man's expression and shrugged. "We talked about it in sociology class recently."

Impatient, Lola spun around to accost Gantz. She pressed a finger to its screen and placed an indignant fist on her hip. "Whassa matter, Gantz? You feeling sick or something? What's taking _Yankee Doodle_ so long? You got some new people to play with…don't you want to play with them?"

"I'm getting the fuck outta here." The other guy said, approaching the door. "On the count of three, we ram it, 'kay?"

The tattooed man nodded. "One."

"Two."

"_Yankee Doodle went to town, a-riding on a pony…_"

"The fuck!"

Both men turned frantic eyes to the girls, who each wore looks of victory and gloating.

"We tried to tell you…" Camilla shrugged.

"Now, just stay over there until Gantz opens up." Lola advised. "The last guy who poked around too close got smooshed against the wall."

The two men leaned against the door and slid down to the floor, wearing respective looks of fatigue and fear. When the song was done, a hiss of air signaled the opening of the shelves. The girls plus the dog scurried over to collect their weapons; Camilla helped their canine companion into his own suit – complete with little doggy boots.

"What are your names?" Lola approached the slumping men with two metal suitcases.

"Kyle." The tattooed one said, not bothering to look up from where he stared at his lap.

"B-Benjamin."

Lola squatted down in front of them, wearing a narrowed expression. She turned to Kyle. "What is the last thing you remember before coming here?"

He scowled. "What does _that_ matter?"

"Just answer the question." She snapped, obsidian eyes fierce. "We only have a few minutes left. There are certain things you need to do before I can explain everything to you."

"Screw you!" he growled. "Tell us everything that's going on! Right now!"

"Yeah!" Benjamin nodded his head, a scowl marring his forehead.

Lola squeezed the bridge of her nose between her eyes. "For the love of God…I hate men." She mumbled. "I'm 17 years old and I hate men like a crazy old cat lady."

Finished with dressing the dog and sensing the impending bloodbath, Camilla took the suitcases from her friend. "_Lush_ and _Ignoramus_, huh?" she read, scrutinizing the men below her. "What do you do for a living?" she asked Kyle, careful not to use the past tense.

He turned a curious look her way. "I'm a bartender, why?"

She tossed _Lush's_ case onto his lap, and handed Benjamin the other.

"_Ignoramus_?" he demanded. "What the hell is this shit?"

"Just shut up and put on the suits." Lola snapped, getting up from her crouch. "Go out into the hall and change. No more questions until you come back."

"And don't bother trying to open the front door!" Camilla added, flinching when the door slammed behind them. After a moment, she turned to Lola. "Do you think any of them will survive?"

She shrugged. "They probably will. But that Benjamin kid seems like a secret pussy."

"He was just nervous!" Cam defended. "…The bartender seems like a real asshole."

Lola just smiled distantly. "Doesn't he?" she questioned dreamily.

"You have issues…" Cam frowned.

* * *

_The Staten Island Team_

"Okay…" the broad-shouldered man said, putting his hands on his hips and staring at the suitcases. "We got _Jeff Gordon_, _Pokerface_, _Cookie_, _Fat Man_, and _Coca_."

"I think we can narrow one down." A deeply tanned girl said, eyeing a rotund man breathing heavily from the corner.

"You got a point." The man said, picking up _Fat Man's_ suitcase and handing it to him. The other man took without another word.

"I think I might be _Cookie_." Another woman, one with straight raven locks, said.

"Why's that?"

"It's my stage name." she grabbed her case and sat back down.

"You're an actress?" the first girl questioned, eyes widening in awe.

"No." the other said flatly. "I'm a dancer."

"Like ballet?"

"Like _exotic?_" she mimicked her tone sarcastically.

"Oh…well, there's lotsa kinds 'a dancers. That's no reason to be rude about it." She tossed her dark curls over her shoulder.

"Okay, take it easy." The bulky man in front of the suitcases said. "I think I'm _Jeff Gordon_. The last thing I remember is getting rear-ended by an 18-wheeler on the highway…whoever made these obviously has a sick sense 'a humor."

"That just leaves _Pokerface_ and _Coca_." The wavy-haired woman said, turning to the young black kid next to her. "I think you're _Coca_ 'cause it's like a Hershey Bar."

The room fell into a tense silence as each person stopped what they were doing in order to gape at the woman.

"What?" she demanded. "It makes sense."

The student took the suitcase from her without another word.

"You're thinking of cocoa…not coca." Cookie informed her. "And, by the way, coca is the plant they grind up to make cocaine. So not only are you racist, but you're ignorant, too."

"Well, if _you're_ so smart, then why are you a _stripper_?"

Cookie shrugged. "Maybe I'm smart for _being_ a stripper."

"…What?"

"Think about it." She rolled her eyes and unzipped her jacket in order to slip the top half of the suit over her head. "I can make close to a thousand bucks in a single night…just by showing guys my tits." The suit tugged at her chest and she scowled.

"You're actually wearing this hideous thing?"

Cookie shrugged. "I've worn worse…plus, there's gotta be a reason behind it. Why else would someone go to the trouble?"

"…To make us look stupid?"

She shrugged again. "Better safe than sorry." She gave up trying to fit into the top half and began to step into the pants. They glided smoothly until they reached her shorts. "I think we're supposed to go commando…"

"Ugh, gross!"

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, just humor me. There really wouldn't be much to work with without me giving you the standard "ZOMG, where are we? What's going on?" So now that that's over, we can move on (thank God!) I feel I should inform you that none of these chapters have a set length. Suffice to say that each mission will have its own chapter, where I will indicate a team switch using asteriks (*) and a POV switch _within_ teams using hyphens or dashes (-).

Oh, before I forget! **This is important!** I was really, really nervous about using certain terms to describe nationalities. I really hope I didn't offend anyone by using "black" or "Asian" or any other term that's written. I can be more PC if you need me to, but I just decided that using those terms would maintain the original GANTZ voice. Like the Osaka team and their slang and missin' G's =] But again, if it bothers you, just let me know and I'll definitely do something about it! I love my readers too much to risk offending you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Gantz****: ****Parallel Stage**

**Summary:** par AL' lel: (adj) lying in the same plane but never meeting no matter how far extended; consisting or having component parts connected; progressing so that the interval between parts remain the same

…Something I thought about starting after watching the anime; finally started after finishing the most recent chapter of the manga.

**A/N:** Like I said, there are no set lengths for the chapters. I figured I'd just cut you a break and make this significantly shorter than that monster of an introduction. But that doesn't mean long chapters won't be the norm…(probably) ;)

_The Queens Team_

"And that's basically it." Camilla shrugged, walking in stride with Lola.

"You guys have _got_ to be on something." Kyle said, tugging at the suit where it chaffed near his crotch. "_Aliens?_" he questioned, for the third time. "What are we, the Men in Black?"

"Actually, dude…" Benjamin – who'd loosened up enough to tell them that Benny was just fine – indicated their current attire. "Yeah. We kinda are."

"Shut up." Kyle snapped. "That's not my point. And what's your deal? You were on the verge of tears the second that laser sent us here."

"I was not!"

"Were too!"

"Actually, you were." Lola chimed in.

"But that's fine." Camilla added hastily. "The first transfer _is_ a little nerve-wracking if you don't know what to expect."

"Screw all of you!" Benny shouted, sending the dog into a barking fit. "I was _not_ crying!"

"You had tears in your eyes, at least."

"Lola, you aren't helping." Camilla rolled her eyes. "We're supposed to be a team here and all you're doing is helping to alienate people."

"Fine, fine." Lola sighed. "So…who's our guy again?"

"Zorro."

Kyle chuckled. "This is all just some big prank. You girls are good; I'll give you that. If you manage to get Antonio Banderas to play along, I'll lose my shit."

Lola stopped walking and whirled around to glare at the man. "What do I have to do to prove to you that this is real?"

"Nothing." He answered; scowling at the fact she'd made him stop so short. "Because this is fake."

"I feel like my best bet is a demonstration." She turned to Camilla. "What convinced us? Do you remember?"

The dirty-blonde shrugged. "I sorta just went with the flow."

"Yeah…me too." She sighed. "But shit definitely got real when our group destroyed the alien."

She nodded, and then turned to Benny. "But don't worry. I've reached 100 points 4 times, and Lola's gotten it 5 times…so you're in good hands."

"What does the hundred points mean again?" he asked warily.

"It's when Gantz gives you a choice of three options. You can either be free with all your memories of your time as a hunter erased, get a more powerful weapon, or revive someone from his database." She grinned. "Lola actually revived me with her first hundred."

"Why didn't you guys choose to go free?" he questioned, slightly horrified.

Camilla shrugged. "I dunno…these missions have been getting more and more fun, I guess…you'll see what I mean when you meet the alien."

"You think Zorro is the boss of this mission, Cam?" Lola returned from her heated argument with Kyle. "I'm done with trying to convince him. You can lead an asshole to water, but you can't make him drink, my dad always says."

Cam chuckled. "I dunno about Zorro being the boss. Gantz only shows us one alien, remember? And he's typically not the one we need to destroy to start the transfer."

Lola sighed. "I was just hoping to make it back in time for a TV show."

"Uh…girls?" Benny paused in his tracks and pointed to a figure on top of a scaffolding. "Is that guy about to kill himself?"

Lola smirked as Cam squinted, finding the masked figure quite easily against the brick building.

"That, gentlemen." She grabbed the X-gun from the holster at her thigh. "Is our target of the night."

"I suggest the rest of us start running." Camilla grabbed her own gun and snatched Benny's hand, just as Lola took aim and fired.

"Told you it was fake!" Kyle laughed. "Those gun don't even w–"

"Move!" Lola tackled him to the pavement in order to avoid the explosion of bricks above them.

"Whoa!"

"There's always a time lag!" she explained, the power of her suit allowing her to heave him up to his feet. "Now we should run! The fucker dodged the blast!"

* * *

_The Manhattan Team_

"I swear I've seen you before." Christian said to Ava, swinging his suitcase like a child would a lunchbox.

"Are you still going on about that?" Jackson groaned from her other side.

"Well…yeah." He answered. "What else am I supposed to talk about?"

Jackson turned to him then, an incredulous look upon his dirtied face. "How about the motherfucking _alien_ Levi and I just saved your asses from?"

Christian scowled. "That was a traumatic experience for Ava. I'd prefer you not to talk about it, thanks."

Jackson gave him a wry smile. "For a kid, you're pretty funny." Christian smiled in response. "But, as an adult, I can read women. She's not interested."

"Screw you." He barked. "It's not a pick-up line, I've actually seen her before."

Ava rolled her blue eyes. "You've probably seen me on the beelboards."

"Billboards?"

"_Da_." She nodded. "Or the television."

Christian looked like an excited puppy. "I knew it! You're famous!"

"Not really." She dismissed, wanting him to just be quiet.

"Well, maybe not _Hollywood_ famous." Christian rolled his eyes. "But that's fine. At least you don't have to worry about paparazzi or crazy fans…"

Ava gave him a sharp look. "You would tink so, wouldn't you?"

Jackson snorted from the front of the little assembly line. He walked next to Levi, while Indira and Chloe made up the back.

"Give it up, kid." He advised, slightly amusedly. "You don't stand a chance with a girl like her."

"Would you quit talking about her like she isn't even here?" Christian snapped. "Christ, all you corporate assholes are the same…"

"How rude of me." Jackson said, unfazed. "Ava's a big girl. If she wants you to shut up, she can tell you herself…" he rolled his eyes, clearly being sarcastic.

Ava stared down at Christian, who looked back up her with that same excited-puppy look he'd been wearing all night. "Shut up." She told him, coldly.

Christian opened his mouth in shock and closed it with a loud snap. He did that a few more times, clearly wanting to say something but too disillusioned to do so.

"Heads up, guys." Levi warned, staring down at his beeping controller. "We've got two more up ahead."

"Sweet!" Jackson turned to him and brandished his own controller. "How do I make myself invisible again? We can take these two down without them even knowing what him them!"

Levi showed him, for the third time that night, before disappearing shortly after.

"What the hell, guys?" Christian demanded, eyes scouring his immediate surroundings. "What the hell are we supposed to do?" He was abruptly tripped, and fell backwards onto the sidewalk.

"Go someplace where bullets won't find you…" came Jackson's disembodied voice.

Christian scowled from the ground. "Shows what you know, jerk-off! Zorro only uses his sword!"

"The fact that you know this just proves my earlier point…you don't stand a chance with her."

"Crap…I thought you were gone." Christian sat up.

"Now, I theenk he ees." Ava noted, leaning against the chain-link fence dividing the sidewalk from a construction site.

"Hey." Chloe pointed to the fence, or more specifically the yellow "Caution" tape. "Was there an accident or something?"

Christian shrugged, not bothering to get up from the ground. "Some fat guy probably fell off the scaffolding or something…"

* * *

"Are you sure they can't see us?" Jackson asked cautiously.

Levi sighed. "They can still _hear_."

Jack took the hint, approaching on his tiptoes. Levi's controller was right – there were two of them. One alien was still in his "pleasant" form, while the other was standing tall and proud in his furry jacket. The menacing grin of fangs as long as his middle finger was enough to make Jackson suddenly nervous. That black ball had given them nothing except a little caricature of the alien…in its most human-like form.

The 7-foot fox-hybrid resembled an orange werewolf, which would be so much cooler if it wasn't sniffing the air in a suspicious way. It growled, catching the attention of its partner and both stared in their general direction.

Both men froze. Jackson could feel his heart pounding in his chest and wondered if this beast's ears were sensitive enough to hear it. He gave Levi a frightened look, but the other man simply shook his head side-to-side and held a fist in the air. Jackson had seen enough military movies to know that signal – do_ not_ move. He obliged like a trained dog. If this guy wanted to take on _that_ thing, then Jackson sure as hell wasn't about to stop him.

"To punish the cruel!" the human-looking alien brandished his rapier and leapt in front of the werefox.

Jackson was tempted to laugh – the thing spoke like a 60's era Batman impersonator. It put the stress on "punish" and pronounced "cruel" like Cruella de Vil without the "uh." It was all he could do not to burst out laughing, but a tiny snort must have escaped from beneath his hand. The werefox glared its beady eyes directly at him.

"Aw shit…" he breathed, watching in slow motion as the beast crouched low on his haunches and launched into the air.

"Move, idiot!" Levi tackled him to the side, short-circuiting both their suits for a moment. But it was all the aliens needed to lock-on like bloodhounds. "Get up! Get up! Get up!" Levi hauled Jackson to his feet before taking off with his close in tow. "We'll separate to avoid getting civilians involved! When we reach the intersection, you go left and I'll go right!"

"Are you fucking kidding me!" Jackson barked, stunned at how he wasn't out of breath yet. "I'm not taking on Swiper the fucking fox!"

Levi growled. "Fine! You go right and I'll go left! Whatever, just _split!_" As he shouted the command, he darted across the street.

The fox alien snarled and scrambled to make his cumbersome build turn on such a dime. He staggered, deciding to bolt on all fours and managed to dent several Dumpsters along the way.

"What the hell was that?" someone in the alley shouted, staring at the sudden concaved garbage bin.

He didn't really think this through. Levi rolled his eyes as he led the beast through the increasingly crowded sidewalks. People were sent flying, crushed, or knocked aside by both parties; though it would seem like an invisible force to them. He had to make a move, and fast. He could feel his suit lagging already, and he wasn't sure how much more of this high-throttle running it could take. It had only oozed once before in the many months he'd been sent on missions – and he'd almost died because of it.

But it wasn't like he could stop and take the beast on in the middle of the street? Sure, it was late at night, but the flow of Manhattan rarely ebbed. He needed to find a place that didn't have as many people around. His H-Gun was far too powerful to be used in a populated place, but he could always use the Y-Gun as a last resort.

"Okay…" he breathed, eyeing the only place devoid of anything at the time. A stage. He stopped abruptly and crouched low to the ground before leaping into the air. There was a crowd waiting around the stage, which would only prove to be a bunch of things impeding his speed. But that didn't deter the alien. He barreled through the bustling mass like a bowling ball speeding through pins. It would almost be comical if there weren't so much blood.

Levi turned away from the scarlet path just in time to alight on the stage. It wasn't graceful at all. He hit the floor hard and tumbled to keep from going through. The beast caught up before he had time to stand fully.

"Whoa…are those _shadows?_"

"I think so!"

"What is going on here?"

"Is this part of the show or something?"

"Must be."

The alien snarled and swiped a clawed hand at Levi. Too slow to dodge, he instead caught the offending appendage and caught himself staring the beast down. It was panting like a wild bull and hot, rancid breath puffed from his slightly parted maw. Levi couldn't believe how long its teeth were, especially when it snapped them at him. Having enough of close combat, he ducked and slipped under its furry legs.

Levi snatched the Y-Gun from the holster on his leg and fired at the beast. Its skeleton appeared on the screen before the triad of rockets burst from the barrel…and went straight past its target. The beast had leapt into the air at the last second, throwing the net off. Instead, it wrapped itself uselessly around one of the massive speakers.

But that was fine, Levi smirked. He held the arm that his H-Gun was attached to straight into the air. The beast's powerful hind legs had launched him high into the sky, and without wings he had nowhere to go but down. He wasn't sure how the laws of physics functioned, but he didn't really have enough time to ruminate. It was do or die, and he certainly wasn't ready for the latter yet. So he took careful aim and waited for the beast to descend into his range.

He fired and waited. At first, it appeared nothing had happened and he cursed. The beast touched back down to earth and Levi scurried back, prepared to fire again. But he didn't need to. The alien appeared to be struggling against the enormous weight conjured by the H-Gun. It looked like he had caught an invisible anvil and was currently trying to toss it away. Cautiously, Levi took another few steps back and squatted on the ground. He squinted one eye to take aim and fired once more. The beast's entire body tensed – its arms twitched, its abdomen convulsed, its legs buckled – until it could no longer take the elevated amount of isolated gravity.

"Holy shit! The stage just fell apart!"

"Oh, my God!"

"Thank God no one was on it!"

Levi managed to leap back in time to avoid joining the fox's descent. He also managed to keep his gaze from his handiwork long enough to make a beeline back the way he came.

* * *

"This is bad. This is _really_ bad."

"I wanna go home!" Chloe wailed, tossing her head back in order to release a shriek of tears.

"Shut up, all of you." Jackson barked. "I can handle this."

"That's what you said the first time!" Christian snapped. "And that old lady's dead now!"

"Shut the fuck up!" Jackson turned away from the grinning fox alien to shoot him a glare. "I managed to blow one of its arms off, didn't I?"

"So hurry the fuck up and kill the rest of it!"

Ava rolled her eyes at the bickering men and looked over to Indira again. Chloe was huddled against the chain link fence, sobbing in front of the old woman's corpse. In reality, it wasn't as gruesome as the little girl was making it out to be. From the torso up, it just looked like she was sleeping…it just so happened that her body from the torso down was splattered across the street from the rest.

She really didn't see it happen, it was so fast. One minute, the four of them were discussing their deaths – Chloe had been hit by a car on her way home from school, Christian had drowned when his swim team held his head under water, Indira thought she had passed away in her sleep, and Ava had told them that she had slipped and hit her head on her bathroom sink while undressing for a shower – and the next, Jackson was barreling past them, the alien hot on his heels.

And before she knew it, all four of them had suddenly become involved in his fight. The only reason why Jackson had been able to shoot off one its arms was because that was the arm the alien had used to slice Indira in half. It was just an amalgamation of good timing and sheer dumb luck, nothing more. But Jackson was acting like he'd staged and coordinated the entire thing.

Poor Indira, Ava sighed. She knew it didn't make up for it, but she took a tiny solace in knowing that it wasn't like a life had been taken before its body was ready. Indira was old, and she didn't seem that sad in knowing that she had died. Sure, it wasn't the most glorious way to go, but it sure beat passing peacefully in your sleep in terms of excitement. Her wrinkled face didn't even look pained. Ava had expected to look behind her and see the woman's eyes wide in terror and mouth agape in silent scream. But it just looked like she was sleeping.

"Ava, take Chloe and run." Christian told her. "Jackson and I will handle this."

She gave him and incredulous look.

"I mean it…stop giving me that look, dammit!"

"You silly boys can't handle _that_ theeng."

He stared at her, brows wrinkled in determination. "Well…we sure as hell are gonna try."

"Eet's like a bear." The Zorro alien had transformed after getting its rapier arm blown off. What stood before them now was another werefox. "A bleeding bear."

"A little help!" Jackson called from beyond the fence. He had managed to lure the alien into the construction yard.

Christian grabbed Ava's arm when he noticed her running inside, as well. "It's too dangerous." He said. "I wouldn't forgive myself if something –" his eyes flickered to Indira's body. "–happened to you too."

Ava gave him a warm smile and placed a hand on his shoulder. She was several inches taller than him, which sort of took away from the tender moment. "I'm not some delicate American flower." She turned on her heel and trotted into the yard, a stunned Christian following a few steps behind.

"What do you think you can do?" he insisted. "You don't even have a gun."

She shrugged. "Geeve me yours."

"Like hell!"

Ava chuckled. "Then queet trying to protect me."

He sighed. "At least let me go first."

She nodded and stepped aside.

"I don't get how something so big and some_one_ so loud can just disappear like this…"

"Watch out!" Ava grabbed Christian by the shoulders and shoved him out of the way…just in time for Jackson's body to plummet into the spot he had just vacated. Blue ooze dribbled out of the discs on his suit as the pair stared down at him in horror. "Ees he dead?" Ava breathed.

"I…I dunno…" Christian took a few hesitant steps toward the body and exhaled in relief. "I can see his chest moving, I think he's just unconscious." He peered up at the scaffolding. "Well, shit. That other guy wasn't messing around when he told us we'd have Superman's strength with Batman's gadgets."

"Where ees the bear?"

"Technically, I think it's a – _right behind you!_"

Ava didn't have time to duck, or to even turn around, when the alien swiped her clean off her feet. She soared through the air and crashed into a pile of metal beams near the fence.

Christian stared with wide eyes and released an angered growl when she didn't get back up. "You bastard!" he aimed his gun at the beast's face and pulled both triggers – like he had been instructed – several times.

The alien snarled and leapt out of the way. Moments later, the vacant spot appeared to implode upon itself.

"Fuckin' lag!" he took aim again as the beast began to charge. Both foes released a roar in anticipation of the other's attack. When the alien was close enough, he reached a clawed hand out and knocked the X-Gun out of Christian's hand. "Shit…" Christian panted, his veins hot with adrenaline as he stared down his opponent.

The beast's chest was heaving, and Christian assumed that it was close to dying. It had lost a lot of blood when Jackson had blown its arm off, after all. If only he could stay alive for a little longer, he might be able to just let the alien expire of its own accord.

But of course, that wasn't the way Fate wanted it. Fate wanted Christian to die. That's why Fate had his dickhead teammates hold his head underwater in the school pool. In fact, Fate liked to watch Christian die so much, that it sent him to that weird room with the ball in it just so Christian could get plowed over by some even weirder fox alien.

It pinned him to the ground with its remaining arm as its jaws runneth over with drool. Christian turned his face the other way to avoid the unsolicited bath. Its breath was hot and fetid and he shivered uncomfortably when its cold nose brushed against his neck.

"Christ…" he snapped. "If you're gonna do it, then do it fast!"

The beast glared at him and a rumbled erupted from its chest. Slowly, its jowls opened, revealing four rows of razor-sharp teeth, long as steak knives. Christian closed his eyes at that point, not wanting to be conscious for the rest. He felt the heat from the beast's tongue against the side of his face and felt its mouth enclose his head. And then he heard the snap. Followed by the weight. Dead weight. Against his body.

Wait…what?

There was a strained groan and suddenly the weight was gone, replaced instead with fresh air and moonlight. Christian looked up into the worried blue eyes of Ava, who was kneeling beside him with a metal beam behind her. He noticed the blood staining it and looked around until he found the alien's crumpled form.

"Did you…?"

She nodded, breathless, and patted the beam behind her affectionately. "I like baseball." She smiled before keeling over, her head landing on his chest.

For a second, Christian winced at the sudden weight. Then he merely laid back and closed his eyes.

He couldn't wait to tell his teammates everything that had happened. They'd never believe him, but they could all eat shit for all he cared.

* * *

**A/N:** How's _that_ for some not-so-subtle foreshadowing? Next chapter will explore what makes our characters tick! (I promise it won't be as boring as it sounds…)


End file.
